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Forum for Discussion of/Out-of-Character posts on ongoing Roleplays.enThu, 22 Feb 2018 03:56:35 GMTvBulletin60http://forums.nrvnqsr.com/images/misc/rss.pnghttp://forums.nrvnqsr.com/
http://forums.nrvnqsr.com/showthread.php/7899-The-RP-Rulebook-Construction-Repository-Thread-READ-MASTER-POST-FIRST?goto=newpost
Tue, 13 Feb 2018 19:08:04 GMTThis is where concepts from the Ideas thread can be put into practice. Building an RP rulebook by oneself is a harrowing task, and as such, it's well past time we make it easier for aspiring GMs to make new games.

This thread is not for the RP concepts; those can go into the Ideas and Discussion Thread. This one is for the actual work. What gets posted here should be actual RP rulebooks, or at least pieces of them.

Rules for Submission:
There are no requirements in regards to submitting a rulebook. It doesn't have to be complete, nor does it have to be new. If an old RP Rulebook is sitting around unused after a game died, this is where you can put it if you think you might want someone to revive it.

If you have an idea that you've already started working on but aren't nearly finished and you think you'd like some help, you can submit your rulebook fragment as well.

Ideally, your rulebook will be composed in a Google doc, and if you post it here, you should leave it set so that anyone with the link has editing privileges. This of course, means that some alternative security measures must be taken in order to ensure that no content is lost.

Rules for Construction:
The meat and potatoes of this project. Also the part with the most requirements.

Adding content to any RP that has been submitted here does not require permission, that being granted implicitly upon its submission. However, if you plan on deleting anything of significance (spec. anything other than correcting a minor spelling/grammatical error), you must copy and paste the rulebook into a new document, and make a Version History, so to speak. As this project's moderator, I will be playing a part in this as well, and will keep separate read-only versions of each edition just in case of any accidents. These copies will be prepared within 24 hours of your submission.

IMPORTANT: Editing anything requires that you explicitly state you're doing so in this thread. Not in the Ideas Thread, and not in the IRC.

If you make a new doc because you decided to delete something, you must provide a link to the new file, the same read & write privileges apply.

Version Histories will be listed as the RP's title with a number next to it, as well as the name of last person to have made changes written in Size 1.

eg. Eldritch Whispers: The Mythos (v1.0) Draconic

Ignoring the above rules is strictly prohibited. Content preservation is of paramount importance so that people can feel safe in the knowledge that their work will be protected here.

All rulebooks that get submitted will be placed here in the Index Post, to follow.

Rules for Hosting:
If you submit a rulebook here, you are effectively putting it into the public domain such that anyone can run the game. However, if you decide to run it, you must either be sure you are sufficiently familiar with the story, or otherwise have your own story prepared. If it's a game based on an existing game/anime series, you must have a strong understanding of the world that series takes place in. That's about all.

The Index:
The Index will contain a number of different categories. When you submit a rulebook or rulebook fragment to the repository, you should make a point to say which category you want it to be placed within.

These categories are as follows:

Open Source Construction:
A category in which anyone may contribute to the rulebook.

Developer's Game:
This category is for games that a GM developer intends to host themselves. Anyone may contribute to the construction of these RPs, but games in this category may not be hosted by anyone other than the GM until such a time as they give their permission.
Keep in mind that requesting your game be placed here implies that you plan on hosting it once the rulebook is finished.

Alternatively, if the RP dies, it will be moved to The Completed Rulebook Repository (see below). An RP on this thread will be considered dead if it goes a full year without a post, or is officially declared so by either the GM, or all the players.
In such cases, the RP may be revived by other people, but players who were in the game the first time around are requested not to apply again if they weren't posting.

Closed Collaboration:
Games here are made by a closed circle of people. Such rulebooks should generally be set such that only specific email addresses are allowed to edit.

The Completed Rulebook Repository:
This is where completed Keep in mind that requesting your game be placed here implies that you plan on hosting it once the rulebook is finished.games that may be hosted by anyone get placed, as well as the place that old RPs that get submitted will go.
Any edits you make to a game already in this category must be done in a new document.

“A Holy Grail War? Isn’t that just for people who admit that they’ll never be able to reach the root themselves?”
“Darnic has cost us in countless ways.”
“It isn’t as if we’ve lost our chance at enlightenment – my issue is that those unworthy to be called a Master will steal away our hard earned victory-!”
“We only see the stars by standing on the shoulders of giants after all.”
“He-he-oh. Stupid magi, coming to the slaughter.”
“Surely there’s an obvious candidate, one who will guarantee us victory?”
“The one to attain The Root shall be I-!”

In the wake of the Third Holy Grail War, the Greater Grail was stolen from Fuyuki City by Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia (titled the Eight-Forked Tongue), with the aid of the army of the Third Reich. Sadly, during transport, the Grail was lost without a trace - though, of late, an undisclosed source has leaked knowledge regarding the basis of the ritual, with imitation rituals spreading throughout the world.

However, without the expertise that went into making the original Greater Grail, the imitations are not quite as potent, with many being quite flawed. The best of them can support the summoning of perhaps five Servants - about the minimum needed to make a good sized wish - while the worst can only support three. Subcategory Holy Grail Wars are derivative, smaller Holy Grail Wars based upon the wide dissemination of the inner mechanics of the Fuyuki Holy Grail War to the world of magi. Each of the Subcategory Holy Grail Wars have different origins, however, all of these wars revolve around a Holy Grail.

The Great Heracles Hunt is an RP that takes place in this Subcategory Holy Grail War in Greece upon the turn of the millennium, as a prospective Master – you have the brilliant idea of summoning Heracles, the Strongest Servant, and so have headed to Agrigento, a city on the southern coast of Sicily built on the site of the ancient city-state of Akragas, near which is the Valle dei Templi, an archaeological site that is one of the most outstanding examples of Greater Greece art and architecture in the world - including a Temple to Heracles - with the aim of securing a catalyst.

...sadly, it seems the several other invitees shared your brilliant idea, meaning that the prospective masters for this war have all gathered in one town, so your mission has changed from simply obtaining the Heracles catalyst to doing so while stopping your opponents from securing one as well, and of course, surviving their interference.
Worse, one of you may not be quite what you seem, and after all, in other wars, it is the Golden Age of Hassan...

The war has not yet officially begun, but it seems the killing may soon begin in earnest...

Every character in the RP is given 18 Master Points to spend on their basic talents and abilities.

These attributes are the base parameters of your character, such as their speed, accuracy, and strength. Every character has three physical and three magical attributes. All these attributes are ranked progressively from E (extremely poor) to A (exceptional) with C being the norm for a magus (average).

These attributes are:

STR - Strength is a measure of physical power. Characters with high Strength hit hard, lift heavier objects, travel faster and etc. Those at the lowest ranks will have difficulty with these tasks.

CON - Constitution determines vitality and toughness. Characters with a high Constitution will be better able to cope with prolonged struggles and continuous activity while those without will find themselves more exhausted much faster.

AGI - Agility is the measure of speed and reflexes that the character possesses. Characters with high Agility move faster and have more evasive ability. Those lower are clumsier and have worse reaction times.

PRA - Prana is a representation of your magical stores- the lifeblood of a magus. Characters with high Prana are capable of casting numerous high-ranking spells in rapid succession. Those with lower ranks are lesser magi who will need to resort to other means than pure magecraft to survive.

FIN - Finesse is pure technique, the measure of control and refinement that one can apply to abilities. Characters with higher FIN can use the highest rank spells while those with low ranks will need to rely on lower level spells.

PRP - Preparation is a measure of how prepared the character is for the Grail War. Characters with high Preparation will be able to set up elaborate workshops, have backup support and ally NPCs to work with to some extent. On the other hand while those with low PRP may only have what they have on hand and that being it.

Attributes, in general, are compared to each other when characters do battle.
Strength scores are compared in melee combat for damage as well as parrying/blocking physical strikes. Ranged physical attacks can only be parried/blocked at close range or with beneficial skills. Spells and other supernatural abilities cannot be parried.
Agility determines turn order of the fight as well as the capacity for evasion. Evasion functions similarly to parrying/blocking with the exception to AOE attacks or spells with anti-evasion properties. Furthermore, when casting high-rank spells, one cannot evade.
Constitution compares against damage with opposing attacks to determine damage taken. It also determines the number of wounds your character can take (2+ CON score) with each wound accompanied by either a Minor Injury or a Major Injury, determined by the number of wounds dealt. Injuries are long-term debuffs that require medical attention and reduce the combat capacity of the injured individual. Those who are taken to 0 are immediately incapacitated. Depending on the scenario, one may become unconscious, become crippled or die.
Prana determines the amount of magical energy available to the user, the amounts being: E = 200, D = 300, C = 400, B = 500, A = 600.

Finesse for its part is responsible for being the cap on the rank of supernatural abilities/spells that the user can take (B FIN means that your highest ranking spells are B rank) and also determining the accuracy of your spells.

Preparation has no real combat effect unless one is creative.

Background

The Master’s background represents the numerous groups of individuals present in both inside and outside the framework of the Subcatagory Holy Grail War. Your faction will probably be the most important choice you will make for your character, as it plays a part in almost every aspect of the character, starting from combat abilities and ending up with how other Player Characters and NPCs will interact with you.

Enforcers

“Sealing Designation Enforcers” or Enforcers, as they are more commonly known, are a group of thirty-four combat specialists, who have been endowed with the duty of hunting down magecraft users who have been placed under a “Sealing Designation”. Due to their exceptionally dangerous duty, they are exceptionally skilled in anti-magecraft tactics and almost universally looked upon with inherent suspicion and derision, even by the higher-ups of the Association. The Enforcers place a heavy emphasis on practical combat application over esoteric magical research and it is because of this specialisation on anti-magi tactics that they are known as one of the three “Sleeping Disasters” of the Association.

The Enforcers have the following unique traits:

Due to their exceptional focus combat, Sealing Designation Enforcers receive two additional attribute points that can be spent on physical attributes (STR/AGI/END).

Due to the institutional discrimination present in the Association, Enforcers are extremely hampered in collecting political capital and recognition. Enforcers are capped at C PRP.

Lords

The ruling aristocratic elite of the Clock Tower, the Lords are a group of prestigious family-heads and heirs whose influence and power can be felt in every part of the Association’s power structures. While there are only three major families of Lords in the Association itself (Barthomeloi, Trambelio, Meluastea), these families have a relatively large number of branch families which can be, by this point, considered completely independent lineages of their own. In addition, the families responsible for overseeing the Twelve Departments of the Clock Tower are also considered to be Lords, albeit of a lesser standing than the scions of the three main families.

The Lords have the following unique traits:

All Lords gain +1 FIN and +1 PRP at character creation.

All Lords must have at least B PRA or higher. Due to the inherent prestige involved with the position, all heirs and family-heads must display a capacity for magecraft that surpasses that of common men. As both the number of magical circuits and their quality is a measure of prestige in the association, the Lords often go to almost ludicrous lengths to enhance magical potential in their offspring.

Due to their isolated upbringing and inherent biases, Lords gain the free bonus perk Technological Incompetence meaning they lack the ability to use more complex pieces of technology like computers, cars and smart phones that other people may take for granted. This is mandatory.

Faculty

While the Lords rule and the Enforcers hunt those the Lords deem valuable, the vast majority of people at the Clock Tower belong to neither of these factions. Instead, they belong to the teeming mass of students and staff that are responsible for the day-to-day management of the Clock Tower. After all, the Clock Tower is fundamentally supposed to be an organization of learning and research. While that idea may be somewhat naive, considering the incredible fragmentation and isolationism that exists between the different faculties, the Clock Tower hosts an incredibly large number of different magi with wildly diverging competencies and skills.

Members of the Clock Tower have the following unique traits:

All individuals studying or teaching at the Clock Tower are part of one of its Twelve Faculties – whether as a lecturer or as a student.

Faculty members gain no advantages but also no weaknesses.

Homunculus

An artificial human created through magecraft born fully grown and clothed before even taking your first step. You possess a great deal of knowledge about the ways of the mysteries and how they affect the natural world. There are many places you might have come from, be them a specific magus family that specializes in your type, or a whole section of a faction that favors your abilities to those of normal humans. Nevertheless, from wherever you are, you are still a good candidate as a Master.

The Homunculi have the following unique traits:

Due to their bodies being primarily made of Magic Circuits, all Homunculi gain PRA +1

All Homunculi are built for a specific purpose and come in two configurations, ‘Master’ and ‘Servant’.
o Master-type homunculi can only take one combat-related perk. o Servant-type homunculi can only take one non-combat-related perk.

Vampire

The horrors of the night, you are one of the creatures that have turned away from humanity through choice or through fate. Nevertheless, you are one a vampire: perhaps a Dead Apostle of your own right, perhaps a recently-awakened former victim, perhaps an agent of the elusive Trismegistus Circle… whoever you are, it does not change that you are, in the end, a monster. Perhaps you became one because you were bitten. Perhaps you became one through your own research. Whatever caused this change is no longer important. What is important is that you have been invited to this war, and in this war, you are a monstrous candidate as a Master.

Vampires have the following unique traits:

You gain access to otherwise unique perks as a Vampire such as Bloodsucker that restores your vitality by sucking the blood of other living creatures and Curse of Restoration that causes the vampire's body to regress through time to its original vampiric state whenever it receives an injury. However, such an ability is also tied to the phases of the moon.

You gain the free bonus perk Vampiric Weakness which causes sunlight to greatly hastens your bodies degeneration and makes you unable to cross bodies of water unaided. This is mandatory.

Player-made factions can also be submitted (but will be evaluated on a case-by-case basis by the GM).

Magecraft

Magecraft or Thaumaturgy is the artificial reenactment of a miracle, a supernatural phenomenon, using a Mystery. Magecraft is the ability to bring about what is possible through science with supernatural means; although the process is considered a miracle, the end result is not. The limits of Magecraft have changed with time, as science evolved and Magic from the past became possible through science.

There is no impossibility for Modern Magecraft within the rules of the world, and with enough effort and time spent studying the appropriate school, anything within the limits of human intellect is possible. However, because Magecraft acts as the re-enactment of Mysteries that already exist in the world, it is impossible for it to create new Mysteries; even with an infinite amount of research, there is a "wall" that prevents the wisdom of humans from doing so in the current era. The realm past this "wall" is known as Magic. Modern Magecraft remains far inferior to Magecraft from the Age of Gods in terms of magnitude, due to the fact that magi from the past acquired their magical energy directly from the Root. The difference between the Magecraft of the past and the Magecraft of the present can be explained by the difference in civilisations - while the civilisation of the Age of Gods existed side-by-side with the truth, the civilisation of the Age of Man exists in order to search for the truth.

In The Great Heracles Hunt, Magi have access to 1 A-rank spell, 2 B-rank and C-rank spells and 3 D and E rank spells. However ones FIN score will limit these as for example; C-FIN will leave the magus with 3 E-rank spells, 3 D-rank spells and 2 C-rank spells.

The cost of spells is also tied to their rank. E-rank spells cost 20 prana points to cast, with each subsequent rank increasing in cost by 20 prana points, until A-rank spells, which cost 100 units to cast. In addition, each spell is associated with a spellcasting speed, based on the rank of the spell. This represents the heightened concentration that higher-ranking spells require, demanding more and more attention from the spellcaster.

These cast times and their effects are as follows:

Single Action (E-rank) - At this rank, Magecraft can be performed almost instantly and with little to no concentration. The caster can Move, Attack, Dodge, and Parry during the turn that the spell was cast.

One-Line (D-rank) - At this rank, the spell is a single phrase composed of at least one word. The caster can still launch other close-range attacks in addition to casting the spell, as well as dodge and parry incoming attacks while casting, but large-scale movement (such as closing in on a distant opponent) is impossible.

Two-Line (C-rank) - At this rank, the spell is composed of at least two phrases. At this point, the concentration required for spellcasting makes carrying out any additional attacks while spellcasting unviable. The caster can still dodge and parry incoming attacks.

Five-line (B-rank) - At this rank, the incantation required to manifest the magecraft is composed of at least five phrases. Only minor physical movements, such as parrying incoming melee attacks, can be carried out.

Ten-count (A-rank) - An “Instantaneous Contract”. At this level, the spell is composed of at least ten phrases and requires the user’s complete and utter focus. No actions other than spellcasting can be undertaken and incoming attacks cannot be dodged nor parried.

Elements are a part of Nasuverse cosmology and play an important role in Thaumaturgical Theory.

A magus normally has the capacity to manipulate at least one of them. However, there are cases of those who can manipulate Elements that are completely different from any of the ones specified above. Within the Mage’s Association, individuals like these tend to either very selective houses or not be part of the Association at all. Cases of magus who possesses more than one Elemental Affinity, and even affinity to Compound Elements, are also known. The majority of Magi are limited to The Great Five Elements.

In The Great Heracles Hunt, one’s elemental affinity will affect the nature of your magecraft:
Fire
Earth
Water
Wind

Void

Ether

Perks

Each Master in The Great Heracles Hunt is characterised by a set of perks that represent their skills, abilities, personality and past. The amount of Perks of perks that each character can possess is capped at four.

Furthermore, in The Great Heracles Hunt, there is a simplified system whereeach Master is allowed to create the perks for their character. The Master is free to craft these perks as they please; however, each perk must be given a rank upon creation. These ranks will not only determine its effectiveness but also its costs and downsides with some being more immediate and costly than what may seem.

The Command Spells (also called "Command Seals") are three claims of absolute obedience, the crystallisation of a great magic that a Master has over a Servant in the Holy Grail War system. Unable to normally be controlled by humans, they are burdened by the "absolute condition for materialisation", the authority of the Command Spell carved into them at the moment of summoning. They are holy marks signifying a magi's status as a Master, a system that was created by Zouken Makiri after the failure of the First Holy Grail War. Unknown to most, their true purpose is far more nefarious

Once all Command Spells have been given out, or even if fake substitute Command Spells are created, new proper Command Spells will not be created with the addition of a new contract. Command Spells do not disappear simply with the loss of a Servant, but instead only when one gives up or loses their right to be a Master.

The proof of your status as a prospective Master - and a trump card that may be used to save yourself when all seems lost. Each Master starts with three of these, and may use them at will to "turboboost" a current action, allowing them to defend against a foe they ordinarily could not, overcome an enemy's defences, or such. Of course, if all three are used up, you will no longer be a Master and will be considered to have lost your chance at obtaining the Grail, so be careful...

With permission from alf, I’m reviving this. I’m borrowing a lot of mechanics and elements from /Reclamation and Moon White because a lot of them worked out really well anyways and if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. It’ll be focusing as half PvP and half PvE. You can make 2 separate applications but at the end of the application process you will have to select one to go forwards as your final submission. Submissions can should be by PM or Discord.

Deadline Day is March 16th.
]]>Roleplaying (Out-Of-Character/Discussion)Bird of Hermeshttp://forums.nrvnqsr.com/showthread.php/7893-The-Great-Heracles-Hunt-Redux-%28OOC%29Ame no Woto: Melody of Lighthttp://forums.nrvnqsr.com/showthread.php/7880-Ame-no-Woto-Melody-of-Light?goto=newpost
Sun, 28 Jan 2018 19:38:04 GMTImage: https://i.imgur.com/GstnmL2.png
Would you like to see something disappear from this world? (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S4A0uCYDxE0)...

What was, once, now once was. The endless flow of History now can be paired, divided, into the two eras of Man: the time of Now, and the time of Before. All that is known, is Since. The Old World is shrouded from us like the horizon beyond a cold black stretch of mountains, impermeable to thought. All we know is Civilization lies past that curtain, a realm of thoughts and of ideas that have gone, only leaving their material traces. As we march further on, we must question ourselves: are we walking in the footsteps of Before? Is the tide of Progress pulling us backward, not forward? Mankind was once punished for Hubris; do we again stir wrath we cannot know? How much of this path is merely preordained? We walk Blind and in that Blindness it may be that we step ever nearer to our Fall. And then-

Where We say, Mankind was once punished for Hubris, They will simply say:

Mankind was,

once.

- -- - --

This is the story of five explorers. Whether they knew they were explorers, or if they understood what they were explorers of, it is not the duty of this tale to determine. This record stands merely to recount, for purposes of posterity: for someday, perhaps, this too will be Before. Our thoughts may vanish from the world, but our Essence yet remains, and will always remain, just for as a scar remains upon the body.

Five girls - soldiers, explorers - found themselves in a cave, or what seemed to be a cave: what is Now a cave, for its original purpose in the Old World no longer remains. There had been a great shaking and a fall and ruination, and for three of these girls it was yet another cast die of misfortune. Their leader and her closest subordinate had perished at the hands of those who hold no respect for Before, bandits and raiders pilfering material and Essence with no appreciation for its providence. For two of these girls, it was yet the end of triumph and beginning of a fall: after victory came this collapse, the rush of rock and concrete debris on their heads, the scattering of six and remaining of two. Of the unknown four, this story does not yet know.

The 33rd Infantry Expedition Squad: that was the name given to the six, before they became two-and-four, and before they again became five with the convergence of themselves and the other three, who were a branch of the 8th Scouts Regiment, if that still mattered. The world of Now had no grip on them anymore: they were caught within the Essence of the Before. All of them, as it mattered to them, were from the kingdom of Andover, a creation of Since, an industrial power and an expanding one, with military force and far-reaching interests. As evidenced by this expedition, its interests had some time ago turned from not just Now, but to Before, also.

There was no apparent option to escape: the shadowed room they had found themselves in, infiltrated in every corner by choking dust, held only doors they didn't even faintly recognize. North - or what they had colloquially deemed 'North' was a pile of debris, illuminated by the steady kerosene flicker of their lamps. Was that the way they had fallen from? Memory was as deep and unknown as the surrounding, consuming darkness.

In here there were chairs, sitting still and waiting after centuries unused, as well as a desk, a short wall behind it and behind that wall a door - metal, imposing. Doors of wood lay elsewhere, more accessible, the paths beyond - if there were paths beyond - unknown. All that existed to the five lay in this room, so cut off were they from the outside. They coughed intermittently as age-old dust seeped into their lungs, and scattered to the corners of this underground place, examining the cabinets and furniture for whatever answers - what questions? - may lay in wait for them. The Old World, always, had much to tell. They had no direction beyond this, and some no direction at all: one of their number, Lance Corporal Millicent Oak, had no thought come to her mind but horror, mouth weakly open as she stared at the crumbled pile of what once was a door: where she came from, and where should could not now go back. Could she ever go back? Her entire world seemed to be in the few dozen metres of this room.

"Maybe we can dig our way out..." she muttered, half to herself, then spoke up louder: "With the five of us, we could move that big rock out of the way... maybe." Confidence dripped from her words like water from a dry faucet. She flexed, weakly, her heavy build, imagining her strength managing to clear a path, imagining sunlight once again shining onto her bleary eyes.

"I don't think that's gonna work," said her squad mate, Corporal Nichole Williams, a slight girl with a shock of brown hair and a smile put on despite the situation.

Elsewhere besides was the newest member of what once had been their detachment of the 8th Scouts Regiment: Private Alice Chastain, a transfer from elsewhere, short even for her age and unassuming, but with an underestimated cleverness. To the military, cleverness wasn't particularly important in a private: she knew how to hold and needle and thread and didn't blanch at battle wounds. That was important.

She was on her stomach, the breath seemingly knocked out of her, her uniform patterned with black dust like soot. Even for her, a way out of this seemed unlikely, if not impossible. With nothing else apparent, she lolled over onto her back with a slight grunt.

Already standing tall, brow furrowed in deliberate thought, hands on her hips to give an impression, was their de facto leader: Sergeant Haley Clarke of the 33rd Infantry Expedition Squad, a stately blonde, tall and - on the outside, as appearances mattered - unperturbed by the situation. She directed her iron look to her new subordinate, Millicent, barely knowing her but knowing soldiers, and soldiers could be expected to rarely be different.

"Wouldn't recommend that, lass. Trying to dig ourselves out would only make it more unstable and risk bringing the rest down on our heads."

Appearances worked: Nichole took note of her new sergeant's apparently cool head. "Did you see anything on the outside?"

When she stopped speaking, they could hear little else after the pattering echo of their voices died down: just the whisper of the flames in their cages, and the groan of the structure all around them, and the rock of the mountain above their heads. The sheer silence burrowed into their minds, demanding that it be broken, no matter how, before it became itself an unbearable din.

"There was a field gun on the outside, in the bandit's camp, we used to break through the door; the blast probably destabilized the supports in here, caused the collapse once we came through." Straight, to the point, without any embellishment: such was Haley's way, and it was recognizable at once.

"...sergeant?" Alice began pulling herself up, and glanced over to the tall woman whose voice resounded through the room, her presence unmistakable. A familiar face, from a different time.

The only other member of the 33rd still present, Private Junior Grade Olivia Ford, began stirring, her narrow eyes darting around and focusing on whatever might have been keeping this room intact. A miracle, maybe, and nothing more.

Haley frowned, but expressed no deeper emotion on her pale face. "They were very well armed, one had a suit of plate and some kind of motorized saw blade. They were also mumbling about something, before we attacked, that leads me to believe they weren't your simple ruffians."

Hardly a stirring consolation, but it didn't matter much now. Whoever was dead was dead, and above ground the bodies remained, as evidence.

"...so someone else is after this place, too?" Despite the weight she felt, Nichole tried to frame the situation as best she could: the emphasis was on moving forward, not back, never back. They were all here for a reason, and whatever that reason may be, it was beyond their control. What agency they had was limited to using their strength together to stay alive despite this place.

Millicent was quick to chime in, staying talkative. "Maybe they'll be too scared to come in after us."

Empty words, but words nonetheless, and Nichole expressed her own doubts with a simple 'maybe'. This was no time for pretending that they were safe, not after what they'd lost, and who they had lost, too. Any one of them could be next and perhaps only Fate would decide.

"If we can't get out, then they can't get in. And we can call for more reinforcements." Millicent, of everyone, kept burning a candle of hope, however bare the flame may have been.

Sighing, Nichole rested her hands on the desk behind her, leaning on it half for support and half to see if it was still sturdy enough to hold a person's weight. Her hands narrowly dodged splinters in the aged wood, and she felt it give just a bit as she tested it more. It was still intact, somehow, but clearly the years had not been kind: clumps of dirt were scattered over its surface, pock-marks in its once-fine face now springing forth blades of grass that sprouted despite the perpetual darkness of this place.

"Old ruins often hold valuable treasures, be they physical or forgotten knowledge, running into these kind of threats isn't uncommon for expeditionary units. And that they were too scared to pursue you is unlikely, my guess would be they were either waiting for reinforcements or gathering their strength before hunting you down in here." Haley, though her position of leadership implied an inspirational figure, was ever the natural cynic, or a realist as she'd say. She hadn't been born into optimism like some others had.

Alice, uninvolved in the conversation, sat up restlessly and paced about, staying within the lamplight but trying to occupy her mind with something - with anything, came as it may - or else she felt she'd go mad first of anyone here.

"Eh!?" Millicent groaned as Nichole stepped away from her and the desk. "They can get reinforcements too..."

"Well, that's... great," Nichole offered.

Both Alice and Olivia, more alike than they knew yet, had no interest in whatever the others were talking about, but for different reasons: Olivia shivered with nervousness as she made her way meandering about the room; Alice was instead fixated on finding something to occupy her mind so that she could solve the problem they were caught in. Talking about it or over it did nothing. Why waste the energy?

The two bumped into each other, fumbling in the dark, and Olivia let out a stream of mumbled apologies in the midst of the situation. Her voice was sheepishly quiet enough that it was drowned away by the sound of Millicent rummaging through the creaking cabinets against the wall and shuffling through the time-worn papers inside. For her, at least, that offered enough of a distraction, her mind escaping to ideas of maps and directions, perhaps.

Haley continued on, her voice seemingly a constant. "Very possible, I heard their leader talking to someone over a handheld radio before we killed everyone in the camp. Unfortunately there's no one coming for us, we were sent to investigate your disappearance."

"Yes! Yes, yes. That's us," Olivia exclaimed, almost in a shout, joining in the conversation she'd ignored just to avoid any further awkwardness, trying to be a part of whatever solution was bubbling up in their heads.

Nichole and Millicent, both more interested in the contents of the cabinets, tried to examine the papers further: but like moth-eaten clothes, they fell apart in their hands, refusing further examination, if there was anything further to them to be examined. On their faded surfaces, little of note could be seen, age having stolen away that knowledge forever.

"Ah, is that you, Chastain?" asked Haley as the small private passed her by - partly out of curiosity herself - on her way to try the doors.

"...sergeant?"

She blinked, as if Haley's familiar face might change in an instant, an illusion of dust and darkness. Yet, she was the only familiarity in that room: from when Alice was in the 33rd, before being transferred elsewhere, she remembered other faces, yet none of them were to be seen. A shot of panic ran through her.

"The others," she gasped, glancing around the room as though there was someone she'd missed, "where are th-"

Haley looked down at her with a confident smile, almost a smirk. "Hello again, seems our luck with ruins hasn't improved. As for the others... with luck they're somewhere further in, though it's more likely they were killed when the tunnel collapsed."

Reality was cold, as Haley knew it. Why pretend otherwise?

Alice stopped speaking and nodded stiffly. Other thoughts couldn't overwhelm her, not now. Reality was what it was and there was no changing that at all. Wherever the rest of the 33rd may have been, they were not in this room, and if they were to be found, it would be beyond one of the doors out of here. With fastidious determination, she started examining a wooden door, its worn-out bolt and its plain knob, her mind occupied for now. With her ear and some weight against it the door shifted just a little, but she heard nothing besides their own voices and the scurrying of tiny feet.

"Are you okay, Alice?" Millicent asked, her voice tinged with concern. Her old Sergeant had always counted on her to keep morale up. "I mean, Private Chastain."

The only response she received was yet another nodd, sharp and mechanical.

"Sergeant, uh, Clarke? What's the course of action?" Millicent asked, walking over to another door, this one still wooden, but seemingly unlocked - only jammed.

Nichole had slipped away from the rest, back to the desk and to a strange contraption behind it: a slab of metal with a face of glass, all in all almost the size of her torso, looking like a machine but with no fuel or electricity to give it life. It sat there, useless and aged, the buttons on the front of it doing nothing any more. There were two others flanking it, but they, too, did not even flicker with a spark of light. She wandered around a bit more, to the metal door, and ran her hand down its cold steel. It had no apparent handle, just an inset with a row of numbers in a chain, like the lock on a safe.

"Sergeant, I've found something. It looks...important." Briefly she thumbed at the pistol in her holster, before deciding that wasn't the best course of action.

"What is it?"

Nichole gestured her over. "It's a metal door with some pretty impressive locks. There's gotta be something important inside."

"Possibly, but without some way to power that we have no way of getting in. For now all we can do is start heading deeper into the station and hope we find an exit, anything else comes secondary until then." For her this was almost commonplace - or she made it seem so - but Nichole still was baffled. The Old World did not explain itself easily, or eagerly.

"Right," responded the corporal, crossing her arms over her chest and breathing deeply.

Millicent stepped over and patted her on the back, pointing to the jammed wooden door, its face touched by wear, no handle left to open it save for physical force. "It's okay, Private Ford. We can get out. With guts!" Her words were only faintly inspiring, and least of all to herself.

The steel door had caught more of Alice's interest: mechanical things were her forte, or at least they put her mind to work most. She studied it alongside Nichole and Haley, who stepped aside to let the private examine its workings. It was clearly some kind of mechanism, based on her knowledge, though no connection to the machines behind the desk - or anything else, even - was apparent. All she could see was a set of dials, three in a row, that no doubt were there for entering a code to get the door open. It was the sort of thing that, even with a battering ram, couldn't be brute-forced. Whatever lay behind this door, no one had seen it in hundreds of years, but it was still beyond their grasp. No attempt at fiddling with the dials succeeded in producing any results: just hollow clicks with each flip of the numbers. Even Olivia, giving it a go, found only failure.

"...This isn't an electric lock. Just a physical mechanism," Alice said, partly to herself and partly to the three crowded over her, anticipating some answers. However, her attention soon found another target.

"Sergeant," said Millicent, not yet confident enough to shout, but wanting to redirect her attention. "The other doors are just wood. We might be able to force them open..."

Nichole was soon by her side, rapidly losing interest as the steel door attracted more from others. "That sounds like a great idea, Millie."

"Oh, um, Nichole, right? I was thinking we'd take one of these chairs and, well..."

"Yeah, Nichole. Ram it?" She picked up a chair, hefting it with what strength she had, wanting progress of any kind to make this place less stifling than it was. Even to enter another room, no matter what it contained, would start to shake off the ennui this place inspired. The dust coated not only their lungs but their minds as well; it made them slow and weary, edging towards willingness to succumb to this isolation.

"Well," Millicent interrupted, with a firm step back from the door, "shouldn't we wait for Seargent Clarke's order?"

"I guess." Nichole gripped her rotten, wooden chair anyway, not giving up. "Hey, sarge, permission to try one of the other doors?"

"One moment, I'll help you two with it." Haley raised her hand in a limp wave; she was busy looking over Alice's shoulders as she put her mind to work checking one of the machines just as Nichole had: Alice came to similar conclusions, understanding the buttons below the glass face were somehow connected to the machine's functionality, and indeed she was able to understand most of the letters and symbols on the buttons. It was similar to a typewriter, but clearly, and certainly by its Old World provenance, much more advanced.

At the wooden door in the south, the rest of the squad reconvened. Attempts were made at slamming it down: Haley first, her slim figure barely shoving it, then Millicent, who herself shifted the door somewhat but failed to knock it down. She'd hoped for a heroic opening, like out of a story, but was left with disappointment and bruised muscles.

Then Nichole, bringing her ram to bear, shoved at the wood with a certain reckless abandon. Whether by her own strength or technique, or the door being worn down enough already, it jolted on its hinges and gave way with a creak. The squad was able to pass beyond, the corridor that stretched before them offering a new darkness, yet more ominous than before. The flame-light revealed peeled and worn posters on the walls, but little else. From the ceiling hung electric lights, almost mocking in their non-functioning state as a mere kerosene flame took their role instead.

"What now, Sarge?" Nichole slipped her pistol slowly from its holster, her wary eyes on the black unknown ahead.

"Weapons drawn, stay together, and be ready to fire on my command if something hostile tries spooking us." No one had any intent on disobeying. In the confusion of the underground world, any direction was accepted without question.

Unsteady affirmations of "right," and "yes ma'am" came from her squad, but they followed.

"Before we move out I want to know what everyone's carrying so I can decide who gets point."

Millicent hefted her machine gun, hanging by a thick leather strap from her shoulder. ""Um, I have a Lewis gun..."

"Lovely, can you fire it from the hip?" Haley eyed the monstrous, unwieldy weapon with an upturned nose.

"Yeah, but it's hard to hit anything that way."

Behind her, Olivia patted her rifle. "Still the same old Lee-Enfield and some patches, ma'am."

Nichole and Alice reported in similarly: "I've got a handgun and, uh, three bombs," "A gun. And a medkit."

The awkward private let out another set of apologies, stammering, while Millicent gave her affirmation and brandished her machine gun, stepping forth to the front of their little column. It was a tight fit in the narrow hall, and the barrel of her gun tapped lightly on the metal lamp Nichole held in her off-hand, a few paces behind.

Thankfully for them, the hallway was a short one, going on for a few uneasy metres, then turning to a junction: left, and right, both thick with subterranean darkness. At both ends were doors, one piled on with locks along its edge, the other not so. Both were wooden, just as the last: security here, it seemed, was relatively lax. Or had someone passed by this place not too long ago?

Millicent glanced down both ends of the split hallway. "Which way, Ma'am? The one on the left looks like it leads to the same room as the locked door from before."

"Left, it may link to the east door in the first room." Haley raised her hand, stopping mid-step. "Wait."

Going on ahead, she found a fist-sized hole in the door, from time or wear or God knows what. It was too small to see through with the lantern held by it, but riddled with splinters, clearly not made by careful hands. Careful hands, the sergeant had not in mind: smashing at it with the butt of her rifle, Haley tried to make the hole larger, but the door was made of something more than just wood, it seemed. Something powerful must have bored it in the first place.

"Um, ma'am, I can try... I've got thick skin..."

"I think we might need something a little stronger, sarge."

Haley stepped back, shaking her head. The lantern wouldn't fit past, either. "Who wants to be the lucky girl that gets to stick their hand through a dark hole?"

No one spoke up, and the only willing participant was Millicent, who stepped ahead of everyone else, taking off her pack and wrapping her jacket firmly around her arm. Either daring or entirely not considering the danger, she reached through the space in the door, but cannot feel anything on the other side, not even a handle or another side to the locks.

"There's no latch on that side," she stammered, pulling back.

"Sarge, can we blow this door or what?" Nichole sighed, impatience edging her words.

Olivia perked up with an idea, and raised her voice as best she could. "Can I just...can I try something for a second?"

She goes unheeded, however: Alice, who was sniffing the air - stale, musty, but nothing else - pulled out a match, struck it, and flicked it through the hole. A very tiny, tiny light brightened a bit of the tile floor in the room beyond, burning bravely but revealing little.

"Oh...well that takes care of that then," said Olivia, her words getting quieter and quieter as she spoke them. "Try...this."

With a bit of a shiver, not looking anyone in the eye, Olivia slipped her backpack off, rifled through it for a strip of paper, scrunched it into a sturdy ball, and placed it in Alice's palm. "Better light."

As Nichole stepped back towards the other end of the hallway, Alice struck another match and lit the corner of the paper, hastily tossing it on through as she'd done before. The whole act was done in seconds; everyone else let out a short gasp, but they were too late to intervene if they had any mind to. The smoking paper ball embroiled in flames on the dusty floor, casting its light on a couple rows of desks and their old, coming-away drawers, with black chairs beside them and on top, yet more machines.

"Sarge, should we maybe check the other end?"

Haley slapped her forehead with her palm. "Or we could try unlocking these latches... which are on this side of the door."

"Oh."

Alice frowned a little, staring at the fading ball of light. "Caution. If there are no latches on the other side..."

No signs of movement could be seen around the flames, but that was no reason to get over-confident.

"We'll set up a firing line before opening the door, just to be safe, but before that..." Haley pounded her fist on the door, a sudden and startling noise, but nothing still could be reported from the other side.

She ordered Nichole, owing to her apparent affinity with doors, to work with the latches and bolts. It takes a few minutes, but the corporal manages to figure them all out - simple, unchanging mechanisms that they are - and gingerly pushes on the doorhandle before jolting back. The whole squad kept their weapons trained on whatever could come through, but this time, there was nothing. The latnern light reached fully through now, and they managed a glimpse of the whole room: staid and plain, with several rows of long metal desks, on which were yet more of those machines Alice had examined before. On the eastern side of the room stood lockers, some open and most not, but the chief sight were a pair of further doors: one stuck open, propped up by an overturned desk, the other held shut by chairs and apparently little else but hope. Despite her wariness, it was Nichole who stepped into the room first, as though it was her responsibility as the one who unlocked it - in case anything happened, perhaps.

Everyone save Alice was immediately most interested in the lockers, with Haley giving them a thorough once-over, though to little effect.

Alice was fixated on the machines, more than anything else thus far: these ones were standing on their own, and larger than the last. They were built the same as well: a flat glass pane over a board of buttons, with clearly recognizable letters and numbers on them as well as a few other symbols she couldn't decipher. However, with these desk-top machines, Alice noted wires running from the machines under the desks and to each other. Tracing their lengths, the wires slipped down to the floor into precisely drilled holes, and beyond there, no one could tell. With her ear against the icy steel side-panel of one, she felt as if she could hear a very vague electrical hum... but, it could have just been the noiseless ringing of her ears. That sound intrigued her most of all: power. Activity. Life.

"These machines seem to still be active," she said, intending the others to hear her words, but when she looked over to them they were clearly too caught up with something else.

They stared down upon a battered, ancient skeleton, rotten brown and covered up in a bundled grey coat too large for its frame. Any identity was unknowable with how thoroughly the body had decayed, and nothing around seemed to tell much else about it. This Old World casualty, perhaps in their final moments, had clearly been injured, with wounds especially on the thigh: broken, twisted bone almost like from a gunshot. Its hands were gripped into once-tight fists, nothing more remaining as its skin and organs had long since withered away. Beside it was what Haley and Millicent imagined to be a broom, or a mop, or so it had been some long, long ago. One end had been sharpened to a razor point like a weapon. About half of the eroded shaft was stained a flat black colour, like oil or paint. It was dried thickly and stuck on, and even scratching it didn't peel it off.

Alice peeked over briefly, not interested in the skeleton, but more so in the haplessly barricaded, half-open door. "Let's go the other way."

Nichole, partly disgusted, couldn't help but admit a morbid fascination with the centuries-old body. The battle before - the battle which saw her sergeant and her senior corporal die - saw to that, but there was something about this one, perhaps its age or perhaps that there was no way of knowing anything about the person themselves. Something made it impossible to look away.

Millicent, too, understood in her own way: it was painful to imagine how this person had suffered, alone and dying not on a battlefield, but in this empty and lifeless room so long ago.

On her own adventure was Alice, who pushed aside the small wooden desk into the door beyond, finding what she could immediately tell was a washroom. It had no more occupants, and little remained within besides a pair of urinals and beside them two open, empty stalls. There were sinks, as well, on the other side of the room, and a hanging light that died well before Alice's time.

Haley and Millicent left the corpse and peek into the lockers close by. They were all broken and opened easily, time having taken its toll on them. The two went through them methodically, finding most contained lengths of rope and wire, as well as strange, complex pieces of metal that they didn't quite know the purpose of. One held a tattered shirt hanging from a knob, a bit too big for any those present; yet another had within it an old book with a dust-caked cover and pages falling out of its spine. In the locker closest to the skeleton, there was a folded-up piece of paper about a foot long, not as harmed by the passing of time, and a metal canteen - empty - alongside a knife, very rusty, but long and presumably once sharp. It showed no signs of use.

Flipping through the book, Haley found it mostly incomprehensible, both the old language and the meandering scrawl it was written in. From its format, it seems to have been a journal, its owner, perhaps, the long-dead person laying quietly on the floor.

Alice had popped over to join the whole group, and snatched one of the colourful if mouldy pieces of metal, small enough to fit in her palm. It and those like it were all flat and criss-crossed with yet more metal, like pieces of art of some kind, in a style alien to anyone of this era. She couldn't see what they'd be useful for, but from looking at them, they appeared to be intended to fit into something, just as paintings fit into a frame, or a key into a lock. The machines came immediately to mind, the connection tenuous but possible.

Nichole had simpler, more concrete pursuits: the folded piece of paper, wanting to decipher something on her own. The paper folded out into what was obviously a map. It was too old and faded to read it well, but she could see there were mountains and roads marked out on it, as well as a central structure she reasoned might be this very building. At the foot of one mountain, there was a likely entry-way, but without another, present-day map, she couldn't quite tell if it was the one she and the rest came through.

"Sarge, I've found a map!" She held it up for emphasis, careful that her eager fingers didn't tear it into uselessness.

Haley pulled her nose, almost wearily, out of the book, having found some words like 'work' and 'night' and 'frustrated,' as well as mentions of 'guys... downstairs.' "I'll look it over in a moment, I want to see if I can make anything out of this first."

"Aye aye." Nichole folded it back up again, carrying it awkwardly in her hand, holstering her pistol so that she could keep map and lamp both at the ready.

Alice had scuttled over to the machines again, and with the new-found knowledge of these chips, tried figuring the whole system out. Eventually, she found that the row of letters lifted up to reveal something underneath: a flat panel, just big enough for the device she held in her hand. Curiously, there was currently one already occupying this particular machine, and it had a piece of paper stuck to it that read "JULY REPORT" in big, bold letters. Frowning, she began pressing random buttons, attempting to brute-force the machine into compliance. One of them reacts somehow, popping the current device out like a cookie thrown out of an oven, landing it in Alice's hand, cold as ice. The machine's hum remained as tuneless and stable as ever. With a sigh, she put the little devices in her pack, to perhaps find proper use later.

Nichole shrugged with some amount of disappointment obvious in the following slump of her shoulders. "This is the most shallow level. The good stuff...it's probably already been taken. We might not be the first ones to find this place."

"Wouldn't be so sure about that, the good stuff as you call it might still be here," said Haley, moving towards the northern-most door. It was locked up, like the last but more hastily, with the main defence being a pair of chairs propped up against it - as though to keep something out. Whether or not they were effective is lost to Before.

Millicent: trudged into the nearby bathroom herself, getting a proper look. There was a dusty but functional mirror above the sinks, and after wiping off the dust, Millicent could vaguely see her reflection looking curiously back at her. Turning the knob of the faucet, the slightest drip tap-tap-tapped into the basin. Not enough to do a quick face-washing.

"Do you want to look inside of these?" Olivia walked up to Alice, noticing her frustrated button pressing. She hit one of the machines with her foot, as though that would suddenly resolve the inherent problems within. However, it was an offer that quickly fizzled out into nothing as Haley's commanding voice subsumed all else.

"Ladies, if you'd be so kind as to form a firing line around the north door, we're going to see what's in the next room." A scant couple moans of disappointment followed, but orders were orders.

"Yes, ma'am!" Olivia then whispered to Alice: "That takes care of that I guess..."

"Form a semi-circle so there's no chance of anyone other then the one opening the door getting caught in your line of fire."

Haley led by example, her rifle at the ready, with Nichole muttering "right, right," and coming up behind her, pistol in hand.

As their sergeant pushed away the chairs with her foot and walked forward to the door itself, the squad looked on. They were all hesistant, attempting infinite carefulness as Haley unfastened the few, loose locks there were, then opened the door. For a while, there was no sound at all save for the creaking of wood and the scurrying of some small creature away in a nook of the room.